


Tongue

by noblydonedonnanoble



Category: Doctor Who RPF
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-11
Updated: 2012-07-11
Packaged: 2017-11-09 15:58:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/457302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noblydonedonnanoble/pseuds/noblydonedonnanoble
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I'm not even going to pretend this has a plot, it's just porn inspired by Catherine's tongue.</p><p>Like seriously this is the biggest PWP I've ever written.</p><p>If you have a problem with RPF porn, just stop.</p><p>Really.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tongue

                Whipped cream is such a cliché. Or at least that’s what I’ve always said. If you’re having sex and want to bring food into the equation, you can do it in a more tasteful way than whipped cream.

                But I had Catherine in my kitchen while I cooked dinner. And she was digging around in the refrigerator, looking for butter, when she found it—a can of whipped cream that I'd bought ages ago for ice cream or pie or something. Something not sex-related, certainly.

                She held it up and smirked at me, and I waved her off. But then her hands were on me and her lips were everywhere. Her fingers had worked my shirt free within what seemed like seconds, and she threw it in the general direction of the doorway. She pushed me, away from the stove and over to the table.

                Sex on the kitchen table—another cliché I'd always tried to avoid.

                From the way that she was looking at me, though, I didn't particularly want to go anywhere else. Why wait to reach a bed, a chair, even a blank wall, when I could have her right there.

                But as soon as I'd stumbled onto the table, Catherine stepped away. She was grinning, devilishly, before grabbing the whipped cream from the counter where she'd put it down. "Stay," she told me. I put my hands up in the air, yielding. This, coincidentally, was another cliché that I must admit I've never been a big fan of.

                "Open," she told me. I dropped my jaw and stuck my tongue out. With that grin still in place, she sprayed just a dab of whipped cream on my tongue. I started to close my mouth to swallow it, but she kissed me, tongue fighting with mine. I realized immediately that she was trying to taste the whipped cream, and I grinned against her lips before very lightly running my tongue across her teeth, leaving a trail of whipped cream behind.

                The second time she sprayed some into my mouth, she allowed me to actually eat it. She sprayed a little bit on my nose, which she kissed and ate away. Both cheeks, more kisses. And then my Adam's apple; I couldn't help but swallow when her tongue brushed along my skin, and it didn't escape her notice. She came back to my mouth, gave me another mouthful of whipped cream and another kiss. "Lie down," she whispered into my mouth.

                I wasn't going to argue with her. My table felt cold on my bare back; if Catherine intended on repeating this, it occurred to me that investing in a new, more naked-friendly table might be a good idea. I felt her unbuckling my belt, unbuttoning and unzipping my trousers, and I took the hint and raised my hips so that she could slide them off for me. I was left lying there on my kitchen table in nothing but my boxers. And she stood over me, still smirking.

                Catherine began to write a word, beginning below my collarbone on my right side and working across. M... I... N... E.

                "Mine?" I muttered.

                She heard me, and chuckled, spraying more whipped cream into my mouth. "Because that's what you are. You're mine." She opted out of sharing with me this time, instead clearing the word off my skin. Slowly, agonizingly slowly. My breathing was growing slightly ragged just from her tongue being... perfect. It was a fucking perfect tongue.

                She sprayed dabs on my nipples next, which I saw coming. It didn't make me react less sharply when God damn there her tongue went again, and when she closed her mouth and bit me. I couldn't help but arch my back, couldn't help but groan. More whipped cream in my mouth, more of the taste of her tongue. She wrote FUCK next. "Because that's what's coming, if you would just be a little more... patient."

                "I'm not good at patience," I muttered.

                She laughed and nodded. "I know."

                I felt her breath on me, knew she could only be centimeters away but she was staying there, why was she staying there? But then she began to lick away some of the whipped cream, bit by bit. Somewhere around the end of the F or beginning of the U, she licked up some of it and held her tongue out to me, and waited until I leaned up and kissed her, swallowing the whipped cream for myself.

                When she'd finished with "FUCK", she looked down at me for a moment. She grinned again, I think this time at the sight of how desperate I looked. Although there's no way I looked as desperate as I felt. But she continued on.

                She started in the middle of my collar bone. It took me until about the middle of my chest to realize she was simply drawing a line down my torso. Just short of my belly button, she stopped.

                "David, I've encountered a problem. You're still wearing your pants." My eyes grew wide and I swallowed, hard.

                "That is a problem," I choked out. I fumbled at my boxers, pulling them down just slightly to reveal my hipbones. I knew she liked my hipbones, and I didn't miss the way she stared for a second before pulling my boxers away completely and dropping them to the floor.

                "I've found a solution to the problem, David, don't worry."

                "Oh, I wasn't worrying."

                But then the problem was that after going to the trouble to remove my boxers, she returned to my clavicle, and began to lick down. She took so fucking long that I had to keep my mouth tightly shut, if only because I had no idea what sounds would come out if I opened it.

                "This whipped cream is delicious, David, would you like some more?" I released the least sexy mangled growl of all time, but she seemed quite pleased to be having such an effect on me.

                Catherine sprayed some on my lips and I licked it away.

                "What are you waiting for?" I gasped.

                She grinned, her tongue appearing again to poke between her teeth. Dear God. "I'm waiting for please."

                Before the statement fully registered, I was practically shouting it. "Please!"

                She looked at me, splayed in front of her. Eyes wandered from my face down and back. "Excited, David?" I gritted my teeth and ignored this. She giggled and sprayed another dab into my slightly open mouth.

                "Hmm, David, I still can't tell if you're really interested. You're not fighting very hard, are you?" She was relishing in this.

                I made a noise that could only be described as a whimper. "Fucking hell, Catherine, please!" She wouldn't stop grinning. She walked around the table so that she was standing in front of me. I couldn't see her anymore. For what felt like eons but was probably seconds, nothing happened, and I wanted to sit up to see what she was doing.

                But then she was spraying more whipped cream and there was her breath again and _fuck_ her tongue, her fucking magnificent perfect spectacular incredible flawless tongue. She licked the whipped cream away with the tip of her tongue and, once she was satisfied, her mouth was on me.

                As with everything that night, it seemed, she went agonizingly slowly. I arched up, gripping both sides of the table so tightly I almost expected it to shatter under my fingers.

                I thought, fleetingly, of the fact that the table was painful under me and honestly she could have at least picked my bed so that it'd be more comfortable, but then she was pulling back slightly and her teeth were grazing my skin and I practically lost myself in her tongue, her perfect tongue. If it's possible to be in love with a tongue, I certainly was in love with hers.

                One of my hands flew to her hair, and I grabbed some of it and held on for dear life. I tried desperately to pull her closer, but she wasn't having it, and she insisted on going her own pace while I breathed heavily and knotted my fingers in her hair.

                "Catherine, please..." My words were almost indistinguishable, but I knew she caught them, because she stopped teasing after that. Every time I spoke—“Christ”—“Catherine”—“fucking hell”—she took delight in it.

                As my breathing grew more shallow, I stopped shouting, and she understood that too. She just increased the pace.

                "Catherine, I... you..." There was fucking promised. And if she kept going, that wasn't going to happen. But she ignored me. And when my hips bucked up, when I tugged on her hair and came into her mouth, she listened to my cries of ecstasy.

                As I caught my breath, she walked around the table to stand over me again. The can of whipped cream was still in her hand, and I looked at her. She looked at me. That same devilish grin. And then she sprayed more whipped cream on my lips, kissed me as I tried to lick it into my mouth.

                Her tongue now tasted like whipped cream and salt and _me_ and she was eager to make sure my mouth tasted exactly the same way.

                I smelled smoke drifting toward us from the stove and whispered, "I think our dinner's ruined."

                Catherine pulled away from me and looked at it thoughtfully. "Such a shame." Didn't sound like she thought it was a shame. I decided, as I was hopping around the kitchen trying to get my pants and trousers back on, that whipped cream wasn't _that_ much of a cliché.

                Although I really needed to see how Catherine reacted to my tongue and chocolate.


End file.
